Scum (1979) (Blu-ray)

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All Rise...

Judge Daryl Loomis is the Daddy now!

The Charge

"I was only concerned with men being stripped of their dignity, cons and
screws. We aren't much different in here, y'know."

Opening Statement

I'm always loath to watch the British social realism movies of the 1970s and
'80s. The work of Mike Leigh (Bleak Moments), Ken Loach (Kes) and, as we see here, Alan Clarke (Made in Britain) is unflinching and often
quite brutal. While I can sit around all day and watch death after death in
horror movies, the harshness and desolation represented in this kind of film is
almost too much to see. When I do agree to sit down and watch one, though, I am
always rewarded, mostly for the same reasons I didn't want to see it in the
first place. So it is, once again, with Scum, Clarke's searing indictment
of the Borstal youth prison system.

Facts of the Case

Carlin (Ray Winstone, The
Departed), a hardcase youth, has been arrested for assaulting a police
officer and is sent to a remote youth prison. As soon as he arrives, he
witnesses first-hand the brutal treatment that the authorities, ostensibly there
to teach and reform the kids, hand out to the inmates. He takes it in stride and
endures it all because he has a plan. Quickly, he learns how the system works
and begins exploiting it, gaining power over his fellow inmates and privileges
from the authorities. Soon, he's the top man in the place and wields it just as
brutally as the officers.

The Evidence

Grim. I could probably begin and end my review of Scum with that
single word which wholly describes my feelings about the movie and about myself
after watching it. That wouldn't go very well, though, toward my word count, so
I guess I'll have to say a little more.

This wasn't my first ride on the Scum train, but it had been some
time and, while I suppose I hadn't forgotten how rough it is, its impact did
slip my mind. Its stark, minimal style and brutal violence hammer home Clarke's
message about the awful Borstal system and make the audience really care for
some truly troubled kids. They aren't all complete thugs like Carlin, though the
place certainly has its share; some are there for very minor things and some are
just simple runaways. Yet they all receive the same treatment regardless of
offense and none of them deserve it.

Immediately upon the arrival of Carlin and two other new inmates, runaway
Davis (Julian Firth, The Queen) and young
black car thief Angel (Alrick Riley), they are subjected to bullying, abuse, and
racism from the officers. Once they're allowed to go to their rooms, they are
further subjected to it from their peers who want to demonstrate their dominance
over the new blood. In most cases, they're successful, but Carlin won't have it.
He endures it just long enough to make a few friends and figure out the game so
he can take over, and take over he does. Through a series of brutal beatings
involving fists, feet, pipes, and even billiard balls in a sock, it doesn't take
him long to become the new "Daddy," taking over not only the alpha position
among the kids, but the black market operation the administration encourages, as
well.

The most interesting character in the film, though, is Archer (Mick Ford), a
vegan atheist by his own word who eschews the violence of the place, refuses to
wear shoes, and mocks the administration at every turn. He's smarter than
everyone there, inmates and administration alike, and stays above it all while
throwing it back in their faces. It keeps him in constant trouble, but he's
prepared to serve out his entire sentence so he can prove his point, which he
espouses in a long conversation with one of the wardens, where the quote in the
Opening Statement comes from. It falls on deaf ears, of course, but he's so smug
and self-satisfied that he really doesn't care.

Scum is less a story than a pointed expose of the very real problem
of the Borstal system. Now, the system was on its way out anyway, but it was a
real smack in the face to anyone who might have seen it. His idea was so
controversial that Clarke made it twice. The first was commissioned by the BBC
for television and, when they saw it, they refused to air it. So he collected
his own money, got Winstone back (he played Carlin in the original, as well),
and made it for theatrical release.

The way Clarke puts it together makes audiences feel like oppressed
prisoners as much as the characters. The few scenes outside the prison involve
running in step and shoveling coal in the snow; the rest of it is within the
very strict confines of the institution. The film is stark white with no musical
score, giving it a slow, oppressive feel. What's worse, Clarke holds all the
violence a little too long, an extra punch during a beating here, a few beats
more during a rape there. In this way, he bullies the audience as the inmates
are bullied, making Scum an excruciating experience, one that may not be
easy, but remains valuable thirty years after its release.

Scum arrives on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber in one of the best releases
the label has put out in some time. Usually, their transfers feature little
restoration, with improved detail but a wealth of dirt and damage. They could
have done the same with this, given how the film has looked in the past but,
instead, the image looks almost perfect. The detail is very strong and colors
are realistic, with no noticeable instances of damage. The grain structure is
natural and, really, the only problem at all is a little bit of overall softness
which, in all likelihood, is intentional. Two audio options are available, a 5.1
Master Audio and a 2.0 PCM track. They're nearly the same, though the 5.1 track
features some crowd noise and other ambiance in the rear speakers, but it's not
apparent most of the time. Both are clear and sharp with dialog that sounds as
good as it ever has.

Extras are very good, as well. Unlike the previous Blue Underground edition,
this features only the theatrical release, so fans will want to hang on to the
old one for the television version. What is included on the disc starts with an
informative audio commentary with Winston and critic Nigel Floyd discussing
multiple aspects of the film, from the details of the performance and production
to its reception among censors, critics, and audiences. Winstone may be tough to
understand at times, but what he says is intelligent and valuable. The disc
continues with nearly an hour of interviews with the writer and producers,
discussing many of the same issues from their own perspectives. A fifteen minute
collection of interviews feature the actors reminiscing on their experiences
making the film and working with Alan Clarke and a pair of trailers, one
censored and the other not, close out the disc.

Closing Statement

Scum isn't for everybody; its brutality and starkness will be
off-putting to many. The power of the film is undeniable. Even if it doesn't
have the relevance it had upon its release, there is still has a huge visceral
impact. If you can stomach the violence and cruelty, the pristine transfer and
valuable extras make this a must buy. Highly recommended.